Final Stand
by Mipiko
Summary: "She'd gotten close to him purely with the intention of hurting him failed to do so, whereas he wanted anything but to hurt her and yet managed to hurt her so terribly." Semi-companion piece to "It's Not Like She Cares. . .".


_**A/N:**_

Back from another war, only this time _Shadow Fox777_ joined in on the fun! :D _The Queen of Double Standards_ gave us both a prompt, and mine was _"She'd gotten close to him purely with the intention of hurting him failed to do so, whereas he wanted anything but to hurt her and yet managed to hurt her so terribly."_

. . . And I seriously had no clue what to really say about that one. X'D Kinda danced around the prompt a bit, and kinda-sorta got something out of it. Along the way, I started blending in from an old one-shot of mine because I realized that the settings were similar, and I did a last minute swap of characters and here you go. I can only hope that it's not that awful and out of place with what Queen's Prompt requested. X'D OTL

* * *

Sometimes – well actually, most of the time – she doesn't know what the hell she's doing.

She's not like Aria– she doesn't have a weekly timetable that she follows to the dot, her wardrobe organised by color and brand, and she certainly hasn't had her entire future planned out since she was ten.

But rarely (very rarely), she does know what she's doing.

Unfortunately what she's currently doing doesn't qualify.

* * *

It's past ten at night, and Kami knows how she got into this position, but she's currently being pressed up against a tree in the middle of a forest by her once-red-herring-turned-potential-boyfriend-turned-eventual-"friend", Yuuma Yamaha. And pressed quite intimately, she might say. His hands are both on the trunk of the tree above her head, but his torso and body is crushed against hers, and their foreheads pressed to each others'.

Usually, she'd probably be quite thrilled to find herself being so intimately positioned, but right now, she is feeling nothing but anger, and slight fear. Although they've ceased with their yelling, anger is still very much evident in the the air between them, which is practically sparking with hostility.

But somehow, angry as she is with her former boyfriend, she can't bring herself to push him away. Not that she probably could if she tried, anyway.

"I hate you."

He may as well have been professing his love to her again, because his tone of defeat is so unconvincing that it makes her scoff quietly to herself. But nevertheless, the words still sting, and she can't help but make an angry retort back. "First you say you love me, and now you're saying you hate me. Which one is it?" She's far too wound up and angry to care that her words demand far more than her ex-boyfriend is willing to divulge.

"I don't fricking love you." Yuuma slams his fist against the trunk of the tree above her head, and she jumps at the sudden movement. She doesn't think he'll hurt her in any way, but seeing him angry like this admittedly scares her a little.

His eyes are cast downwards at their feet, preventing her from reading the emotions in them. "All you ever do is mess me up. You're a real bitch, Miki. I can't believe I've put up with your shit for so long." His cruel words put a lump in her throat, and she struggles not to cry, resulting in her making little gasping breaths instead. He pulls away from her completely, taking a few steps backwards and his eyes look up at her, slightly incredulous.

"Miki, are you crying? You know, if anyone should be crying, it should be me. I was the one who got used. I'm the one who was always second-best for you."

If she wasn't crying before, she's really crying by now. Tears stream down her face but she struggles to compose herself, not wanting Yuuma to look down upon her more than he already does.

With her eyes downcast, she slowly registers that he has taken several steps towards her again, and is only a foot away from her. Her eyes slowly travel up his body, but she is too scared and ashamed to look him in the eyes.

"Miki." His tone is quiet, careful. Making her cry has subdued him. "Mii-chan, I'm sorry, please don't cry. Miki. . ." His fingers tentatively reach out to press against her cheek, but he pulls them back when she recoils from his touch. She keeps her eyes cast away from his, but she can feel his gaze burning into her, intense and sorrowful. He regrets that he has made her cry, but she knows that he meant every word he said about her messing him up.

She doesn't know how long it takes, but the tears eventually stop flowing down her face, and she musters the courage to look up at him from underneath her eyelashes. She's glad it is nighttime; all the mascara ringed around her eyes is shadowed by the darkness.

"I. . . I'm sorry I led you on. I know I've always treated you as second best, and I'm sorry for that too. It's just. . .you're not him – them. You're not like Akaito or Piko. You're just. . ."

"Just Yuuma? Yeah, well, I'm sorry if being myself just isn't good enough for you, Miki."

Her tears had subsided, but the arguing, the pain; she cannot seem to compose herself anymore. She weeps openly, sliding down to slump at the base of the tree, refusing to look up at the boy standing in front of her, such was her shame.

"I know you're sorry." She hears Yuuma sigh loudly, then he comes and sits beside her at the base of the tree. She peeks over at him, and sees that he is staring straight ahead. "Miki. . . Look, I don't think we should be friends anymore." His words cause another loud sob to escape her, and she cries even harder.

His hands are suddenly on her shoulders, and she looks up to see him kneeling in front of her, looking at her with anguished gold eyes. "I know you like me. And I know you're sorry for how you've treated me. I forgive you. I know you didn't mean to hurt me. I just think we'd be better off without each other for a little while."

Her eyes flutter closed as he slowly leans in and kisses her softly on the lips. A goodbye kiss.

But he pulls away far too quickly, and when she opens her eyes, he's gone.

* * *

_Two weeks later_

* * *

Ever since that night in the forest, she can't seem to summon back the part in her which used to be so infatuated with Akaito, so desperate to have him for her own. He's in America, and the twice-weekly phone calls between them have diminished to quick, shallow conversations – at least on her part. She knows that he is feeling the distance between them, too.

Two weeks after the forest incident, and the steady decline of her relationship, Akaito gently tells her that he doesn't think she is committed to him anymore, and that she should either recommit herself, or opt out of their relationship.

She sheds a few tears, but chooses the latter.

* * *

_One week later_

* * *

It's 5:30 in the afternoon, and she's standing in front of her bedroom mirror, curling iron in hand. Her hair is halfway to becoming a glossy mane of loose curls, and a quick glance at the clock informs her that she really needs to hurry up if she wants to get her makeup and clothes sorted in time. Her hands shake as she applies mascara to her lashes, and she has to stop twice to wipe lip gloss off of her teeth.

But finally, at a quarter to seven, she is slipping into her flowing, azure-colored dress and bolting out the door in the direction of Crypton, her highest stilettos in hand.

At the gig, she is on high alert all night – the thought of seeing him makes her feel queasy and unsure of how to act.

He arrives an hour into the gig, and she needn't have worried about how to act around him. She doesn't see him spare so much as a glance at her the entire night. The realization that they are not friends anymore hits her hard, and a lump forms in her throat as she watches him laughing and dancing with his girlfriend.

She leaves the gig early.

Walking home barefoot, having misplaced her flats at the gig and her feet too sore to walk in stilettos, tears well up in her eyes, and she just wants to crawl into bed and cry.

One escapes and slides slowly down her cheek, and she scrabbles blindly around in her bag for a tissue, unless she really wants to mess up her eye makeup. After all, she isn't any where near home yet, and she doesn't want anyone to see her looking like Panda Woman.

She finds a serviette, and just as she's about to blot at her eyes with it, she notices the familiar handwriting etched into it.

_You look beautiful tonight._

She doesn't know whether to smile or cry.

If she'd known that that message would be the last contact she had with him for months, she probably would've done the latter.

* * *

_Two months later_

* * *

She hears news that he's broken up with Ring. It fills her with relief; she's long ago accepted that she is still in love with him.

But she doesn't try to convince herself that she will get another chance with him. After all they'd been through, the damage they'd done to each other; maybe Yuuma was right in ending their relationship.

So, elated by the news, she wanders to the back fields behind her house, just wanting to reminisce about him – them – their time together. It rains as she trudges aimlessly through the tall grass, and she stumbles towards the shelter of a nearby tree, its canopy shielding her from the worst of it.

It's the tree they kissed under, so long ago.

* * *

The next day, it's their final performance of Romeo and Cinderella.

Gumi accidentally sets Len's fake beard on fire, and Lily's bazoomas make a surprise appearance when Bruno's branch accidentally clips her dress, but other than that the whole production goes smoothly.

Afterwards, she gives Iroha a Chinese burn because she is being so damn annoying, going on and on about her "inner Juliet". Of course, Iroha doesn't take it too well, but just as they are about to start roughing each other up, Yuuma suddenly appears.

He's a bit dark around the eyes, but other than that, he looks just as perfect as always. Her heartbeat increases rapidly. He doesn't look at her, but instead to the side as he says quietly, "Miki, can I talk to you? Alone?"

Iroha gives her a funny look as she follows Yuuma outside. They wander down to the side of the school hall, away from prying eyes.

He turns to face her, clearing his throat nervously. Her eyes flicker to his neck, his lips, his eyes. Her attraction to him has weakened no less with their time apart.

As she gazes into his eyes, she can see his sorrow, and his regret. And she understands.

"I'm sorr–" She cuts him off with a shake of her head. She already knows what he is going to say.

Casting her eyes downwards, she reaches into her coat pocket and pulls out a serviette. The serviette that he'd written his last note to her on.

"I found this in my bag, the night of the gig." He smiles with recognition. She continues talking, choosing her words carefully. His words, the ones he used to break her heart all those months ago. "I know you're sorry for how you've treated me. I forgive you. I know you didn't mean to hurt me."

His smile disappears. "That's not all I said that night."

She knows that she is pushing her luck, that never in a million years should she deserve to have another chance with him. But a tiny part of her still hopes, and she can't leave him without having one last try. "I know. But I can't steal all of your words, can I? I have to come up with some of my own." Taking a deep breath, she ploughs on, hoping that her voice doesn't crack or she starts crying.

"I know we can't go on like this; messing around with each other, hurting each other. But. . ." she swallows hard, "I want to be with you. I'm still in love with you. I don't want to break our relationship more than I already have, but I just need one more chance."

Yuuma opens his mouth to speak, but she continues on talking, stopping him. "I know we're probably not ready right now. Not when you've just broken up with Ring and we're still not friends again yet. But someday. Someday when we're more grown up and mature, and we know that we'll stay together and not hurt each other like this again."

Yuuma's eyes are sad, but understanding. He nods once and says, "So where does this leave us?"

Instead of answering him, she gently places her hands in his shoulders, and leans up to kiss him. She kisses him softly, not wanting lust to overtake them and make this moment end in another full-frontal make-out session, what had damaged their relationship do much beforehand.

When she goes to pull away, his hands try to hold her in place. Neither of them want to be separated again.

She knows it's coming, though, and this time she must be the one to take responsibility and leave. Blinking back her tears, she smiles up at him, an attempt at a brave smile.

"One last stand. One last chance. Either we make it together, or we don't."

When the tears start to fall, she breaks his hold on her arms, and walks away without a single glance back.

She is no more than a couple of feet away when she hears him call her name.

"Miki!"

She turns, and he is there, his arms wrapping around her body and his lips crashing against her own. She opens her mouth, and feels his teeth nibble at her bottom lip.

It'll be their last kiss for awhile. Until they can sort themselves out and grow up a little, before trying to be with each other once and for all.

And whilst she cries, she knows that not all is lost. They still have one more chance, one last stand.


End file.
